


Broken Melody

by quill and ink (aquila877)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Castaways, F/M, First Order Navy, MerMay, MerMay 2019, Obligatory 'Rey' Metaphors, One Shot, Ship wreak, Sirens, but not very graphic, mermaid au, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquila877/pseuds/quill%20and%20ink
Summary: Ben saw a flash of a tail before it disappeared under the waves into the night. He had convinced himself it was an illusion and thought nothing of it. However, as days passed, he could have sworn he spotted something move from the corner of his eye. He was sure there was something lurking in the waves.~Mermaid AU~





	Broken Melody

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, I thought I would give Reylo a go! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all enjoy it! Happy MerMay!  
> Feel free to comment or leave a kudos!
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on tumblr!
> 
> https://forgedfromthestars.tumblr.com

             

                                                                     

 

 

He toyed with the little trinket as he leaned against the side of the longboat in the final fading glimpses of sunlight. 

 

He could not make sense of the compulsion that forced him to grab the tiny music box, of all things, from his quarters before they abandoned ship. With each day seemingly fading into the next, he couldn't recall just how long ago his world seemed to turn to ash in an uproar of flames.

 

As the waves gently rocked the boat, he slowly turned the handle and let the familiar tune get swept away in the wind.

 

The full moon began its steady ascent into the smattering of emerging stars, casting a ghostly glow across the water.

 

Ben watched as Phasma, his stocky first lieutenant, tipped a body over the edge into the rolling waves. He had lost count of how many they had lost during the battle and in the days afterward. There were a handful of them left. Now, lost at sea as they were, with every sunrise and sunset it was getting harder and harder to stay hopeful that they would ever return to land.

 

Despite living in such close quarters with the remainder of his crew, Ben had never in his life felt such bone harrowing loneliness.

 

He usually would have work charting courses or delegating orders to his subordinates to keep himself occupied, but now he had nothing. He was trapped with only his thoughts to keep him company during the day. It only resulted in distressing flashbacks to his life before he joined the First Order Navy, something he had forced himself to forget long ago, but now it hung over him like a dark shadow. He couldn’t seem to escape the thick fog of memories he tried to suppress and reminders of the people he left behind.

 

He could still remember the way the ocean breeze blew his hair into his eyes as he ran down the beach when his family spent the summer near the coast. The way the sun felt on his back when there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. And during the night, he could still hear the sound of his mother quietly crying, when she thought no one could hear, after getting into an argument with his father.

 

The tiny handle jammed and the gears stopped.

 

The lovely little melody abruptly ended and silence hung heavily in the frosty night air. He sighed and rewinded the little contraption again. He had broken it when he was a child, only a few days after his mother had gifted it to him, fingers too inexperienced and clumsy to handle such a delicate device.

 

He had never dared to admit that he had damaged such a precious ornament that had once belonged to his grandmother. The gentle tune had been with him since his infancy. He still remembered the vague moments of incandescent happiness when his mother would sing the words to him. He wished he could still remember them, but they were lost to him years ago, during that distant childhood of his before he was sent away to live with his uncle.

 

He heard the sound of the water rippling as the boat rocked. A wave of warmth washed over him and his heart thundered in his chest. Glancing back around the boat to ensure what ever remained of his crew were asleep or too distracted to care, he started turning the handle again, placing it on the boat’s ledge.

 

Ben watched the water carefully, waiting to pick up on any signs.

 

The gentle inky waves reflected the moonlight, causing the surface to glitter in the most mesmerizing way. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw a flick of a smooth dark fin as it pierced the glimmering reflection.

 

He could not help the tiny grin that tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the lithe figure approach the boat. He stopped turning the box’s handle and reset the music before reaching over the edge of the boat and letting a hand slip into the water.

 

Ben would never get over the chills that shot down his back when he felt her intertwine her cold, wet fingers with his. She breached the surface of the water right next to the side of the boat and smiled at him, her lovely dark hair pooling around her face and down her shoulders. He felt all the aches and pain in his muscles caused by the cold slip away as he looked down at her.

 

She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, with the deepest, most expressive eyes and delicate features that all but lit up whenever she blessed him with a smile.

 

Ben had first spotted her watching the boat from a distance a few days after the ship sank, he saw a flash of her tail before she disappeared into the night. He had convinced himself it was an illusion and thought nothing of it. However, as days passed, he could have sworn he spotted something move from the corner of his eye. He was sure there was something lurking in the waves.

 

He thought he was going insane until one particular night he was awoken by the sound of something in the water and he spotted her watching him right under the surface only a few metres away from the bow of the boat. He seemed to startle her because as soon as she realized he had woken up she vanished into the depths with sharp swipe of her beautiful tail.

 

The next time he saw her, all he could see was a pair of piercing eyes watching the boat from a great length away. He could tell she was curious but was being cautious.

 

For centuries, his kind had sought out and hunted her species to the point when it was believed that no more existed. He did not see her until a few nights later, and this time she came a little closer.

 

It was not until he started playing the music from the box that she finally came close enough for him to truly see her. He was awestruck by her graceful beauty. From that night on she would come and visit him after dusk.

 

She was incredibly inquisitive, although she never spoke. He had never heard her make a single sound. He initially was not sure if she could understand him when he spoke. However, one dusk he had become a little too loose-lipped from the unyielding blaze of the sun during the day, and he had ending up blurting his usually internal proclamations of her beauty out-loud. He could not help blushing, but he watched in awe as a decidedly bashful look spread across her features and she gave him a gentle smile.

 

He showed her all the little trinkets, weapons, and supplies they had on the boat. She was intrigued by everything he had to show her and very eager to learn about as much as he could teach her. However, it was the little music box that she loved the most. It never failed to completely and entirely captivate her whenever he played the gentle tune for her. He came to know her as his beautiful Melody for her fondness of music.

 

Ben still remembers the night when he ended up humming along with the music box, so distracted with the moving gears that when he glanced back at her he was taken aback by the look of sheer amazement on her face. It was so profound that he could not help by duck his head to hide his bashfulness. She immediately reached up with her cold hands and brushed her fingers against his cheek. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from flinching from this new sensation, looking up he was met with her gentle smile of reassurance.

 

She quickly became his most vital source of joy and will to continue, it gave him purpose during the horrible, scorching days to live so that he may see his beautiful siren again. Ben hated thinking of what his life used to be like before the war and the kind of person he once was because it was clear that if they ever reached land again he would never be the same again. The harder the days got the more he depended on her beautiful smile to save him from the worst of his thoughts. She was his last ray of hope.

 

He saw so much of himself in her deep, expressive eyes. She was just as alone in this world as he was, as her eyes hardened and her shoulders slouched when he had asked her about her family.

 

It became immediately clear that she did not have one. Her loneliness was like a shroud of misery around her, a sensation he knew all too well, which was why he reached down and carefully offered her his hand. An invitation for companionship between two lonely souls.

 

A grin had slowly returned to her face as she reached out and experimentally brushed her finger tips against his before slowly intertwining her cold, wet fingers with his warm, dry ones. From that night on she came to visit him everyday with a bright smile always etched on her face.

 

The wispy fins at the end of her dark tail peaked out of the water as she looked up at him giddily and squeezed their connected hands.

 

“Hello there,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

 

She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a wet kiss to the back of it. He grinned at her and let his hand untangle from her’s and swept his fingers against her soft cheeks. His thumb brushed against her bottom lip and he felt her quiver slightly as she blinked up at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks began to bloom with warmth and he quietly chuckled pulling his hand away.

 

He held out the music box to her and she eagerly took it with deft fingers and set about toying with the small handle. She spun it and the chiming tune started up. A broad smile stretched across her face, and Ben rested his arms on the ledge of the boat and leaned his chin on his forearm as he watched the intricate pattern of scales on her tail light up a brilliant florescent blue. She glowed with happiness. 

 

His heart had never felt so full before, there was just something about her that captivated him like none other. He could not, for the life of him, understand why his kind would hunt such magnificent creatures such as her. He had managed to fall in love with her without her ever even speaking a word to him.

 

Overcome with an urge to kiss her, he clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes to enjoy the quietness of her company. She stopped playing the music from the box. He heard the water move as she came even closer to the boat.

 

Ben could not help the low chuckle that slipped from his lips when he felt her fingers brushing his hair away from his face, leaving rivulets of water streaming down his cheeks. She ran the tips of her fingers through his dark locks. He opened his eyes and playfully squinted at her. She beamed up at him and her shoulders moved as if she was imitating a laugh.

 

He unfolded his arms from underneath his head and reached down to cup her face gently. She looked up at him expectantly and pressed herself to the side of the boat. He shifted himself onto his knees and bent over the edge to kiss her forehead.

 

Letting himself linger a few moments, he could not help but wish that in a different life he could be with her.

 

The vein like patterns on her tail flared a brilliant blue and as he pulled away wondered if that was sadness he spotted in her eyes.

 

She continued to turn the handle on the music box and the tune came to a halt. He had tried previously to explain to her that it was broken, but she never really seemed to understand. Instead she handed it back to him and he turned it all the way back to the beginning and offered it to her again.

 

She played through the tune once again and this time when it stopped she did not look frustrated, instead she pursed her lips and knitted her brows, looking deep in thought.

 

Slowly, she reached up and pushed the music box over the ledge into the boat. Ben looked at her curiously, she had never down that before, had she grown tired of the trinket?

 

He watched as she bit her lip and seemed to consider something before her jaw set and her shoulders braced. She placed her hands on the ledge of the boat and used her tail to propel herself a little higher, causing the side of the boat to tip towards the water. Ben lurched forward, bracing himself using the ledge, his heart stopping in his chest.

 

She planted a swift kiss on his cheek before slipping back into the water. He looked done at her in astonishment as the boat rocked sharply.

 

“You still awake, sir?” Came a voice of one of his crew members from somewhere behind him, accompanied by the grumbling of the rest of his men as the rocking boat stirred them from their sleep.

 

Alarmed, he gestured to her to swim away before anyone else on the boat spots her. She looked worried but she heeded his warning and submerged back into the water and was quickly enveloped by the darkness. His heart felt heavy watching her go.

 

“Go back to sleep, Mitaka,” he growled, settling onto his back after he was certain she was gone.

 

***

 

The next dusk she returned a little earlier than usual.

 

Since he usually spent the entire night awake to spend time with her, he slept through most of the day as a means of better managing the harsh midday sun and being more alert when he saw her.

 

The sun had set, but there was still light lingering along the distant horizon. He groggily glanced around at his crew, most of which were already settled in for the night and asleep, with Phasma only just lying down. He gave them a few more minutes to ensure that they had all fallen asleep before slipping his hand into the water to signal to her that it was safe to approach.

 

She held his hand and brightly smiled up at him.

 

He noticed her holding something metallic glinting in the water.

 

“What is that?” He asked quietly, motioning towards her hand.

 

She gave him a quick, subtle smile before raising the strange cylinder looking object out of the water. She held it out to him.

 

He arched his eyebrow at her, not sure what she wanted him to do. She shook the object at him, as if encouraging him to take it.

 

Hesitantly, Ben reached forward, stopping once to look at her to make sure she did not change her mind, and took it from her outreached hand. It was very smooth and cold with a silvery gleam, covered in very detailed markings and symbols. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

 

It seemed to radiate some kind of energy that buzzed at his fingertips.

 

“What is it?” She pondered over his question for a moment before pressing her lips together and making a sharp slashing movement with her hand.

 

It immediately dawned on him, he had shown her his sword in the same manner a while back.

 

“So, it’s a weapon?” She smiled up at him in the fading light.

 

He nodded slowly and reexamined the object in his hands. He could not figure out how it could possibly pose a threat as any weapon should. Perhaps, he thought, it could be a hilt of a sword and maybe the blade was missing?

 

He asked her how it works and her smile slipped into a smirk and the glint in her eyes almost devilish. She extended her hand out again and he gave her the hilt. She submerged just under the surface of the rolling waves and held the hilt out before her and suddenly a beam of bright blue light shot out from one end of the hilt. She glanced up at him, her face illuminated by the glow of her weapon. In another moment the other end of the hilt also ignited into a long shaft of light.

 

Ben watched in fascination as she swung back and forth demonstrating how such an elegant weapon of light was to be used. Switching it off, the light receded into the hilt, she reemerged from the water.

 

He held his hand out again, wondering if she would let him have another look. With a grin, she placed the hilt in his palm, and he brought it up to his face to carefully try and make out its details in what remained of the sunlight.

 

He noticed some kind of round apparatus at either end of the hilt and assumed those were the triggers of sorts that ignited the shafts of light. He pressed one but was immediately disappointed when nothing happened. He had a subsequent thought and reached down to submerge the hilt in the water, her eyes focused particularly on him. He tried again and still it refused to turn on.

 

“Why-“ His question was interrupted by her flicking water at his face with the end of her tail while suppressing a smile.

 

He nodded slowly as he began to understand. “Only one of your kind can use it, clever.”

 

Handing it back to her, he watched as she latched it to her hip.

 

Ben reached down next to him to pick up the music box and held it out before her. She grinned excitedly and began playing the tune as Ben hummed along.

 

She would return during the following days at dusk with more things to show him. She had a whole world of her own that his kind was completely unaware of, a distinct culture and symbols making up their own language.

 

One of those days, Mitaka asked him whether he had seen something in the water. The young gunner had become convinced that there was a shark in waters when he spotted some kind of fin jutting from the waves. Phasma reasoned that it was likely that with the trail of bodies they had left behind them over the course of days that some kind of sea animal was stalking their small vessel. Ben tried to keep his reactions as tame as possible, but his eyes kept drifting towards the harpoon stowed away at the stern of the boat. He could feel a storm brewing in his head as he tried wrapping his mind around the very real risk of her getting caught.

 

That night after she swam up to the boat, he asked her if she had been sneaking around the boat. She looked up at him with big eyes not denying anything. He squeezed his eyes shut and fisted his hand in his hair, exhaling slowly to try and control the anxiety festering in the pit of his stomach.

 

“You can’t come near the boat before the sun sets, if they see you they-“ he voice caught abruptly in his throat when he opened his eyes to see her frowning. “They will kill you,” he studied her carefully to see if she understood the gravity in his voice. Her expression became placid and to his disappointment she left soon after.

 

His stomach felt heavy as he watched her go. Ben had never known such profound heartache until she did not show up the next twilight.

 

***

 

He waited for her every night, hoping that she would come back, but she never did.

 

Then, at dawn a few days later, Ben’s heart stopped in his chest as the boat rocked jarringly, stunning him out of his sleep. He gripped the edge of the boat to keep from sliding across the boards. Blinking several times, he tried bringing his eyes into focus in the orange hue of the sunrise, when a sharp metallic shriek echoed through the air.

 

He clutched his hand to his ear as he looked up and watched his worst nightmare unfold before his eyes.

 

Wide-eyed in shock, he watched his crew haul the heavy fishing net aboard with her caught in it. She screamed, her voice a grating inhuman bellow, that rung horribly in his ears. She flailed and thrashed as they tried to pull her out of the water.

 

Ben immediately stumbled to his feet as best he could in the rocking boat, “Stop!” he roared, as dire panic stung his senses and forced him into alertness.

 

Mitaka glanced up at him with a weary look, “I was right sir! She has been hunting us for days now!”

 

He could not hold back his fury and anger as bile burned his throat. Shoving the young man aside, he fell to his knees trying to disentangle her from the netting.

 

Someone tried pulling him away and he stumbled and landed roughly on his back. She let out a ferocious scream and one of the men let go of the net and clutched his bleeding ears, toppling into the water when the waves pitched upwards.

 

Ben scrambled to his feet again, hardly able to breath, and mustered his failing strength and pulled Mitaka away from her. The water came surging over the ledge of the boat, and Ben could not help but watch in horror as the rough current seemed to tear the young man away from his weak grip and pull him into the depths.

 

She managed to get one of her hands free and she swiped her sharp unsheathed claws at the gullet of the man closest to her. Blood sprayed out of his sliced throat as he toppled to the boards. Her shrill wails rang in his ears and the raw jangle of her pain scraped at his heart.

 

Ben saw her beginning to convulse as she ran her hand over her gills, she was suffocating. He lurched forward to shove away the last man remaining still pulling at the net. When the man fell away, she slashed his abdomen, and Ben spotted Phasma reaching for the harpoon as he struggled to get the body out of his way. He felt a heavy sense of dread immediately sink into the pit of his stomach as he scrambled to regain his footing on the soaked deck.

 

Suddenly, her hand came flying towards him from his peripheral and he was struck with what felt like a hot knife across his face and down his shoulder. The pain flared profusely as he fell backwards onto his back. His lungs burned as he tried to draw breath as he blinked up at the burning sky. He could feel the warmth of his blood as it poured over his cheeks as he continued to gasp for air.

 

Black spots dotted the corners of his eyes as he tried to force himself back up, but a strong wave sent him sliding across the boards. Ben heard her claws scraping the wood of the deck.

 

He glanced up and saw her as she growled and bared her teeth. However, when her eyes met his, the expression of anger melted from her face and her eyes widened. She looked horrified at the sight of him.

 

Ben reached up and wiped some of the blood away with the back of his hand, ignoring the searing pain that was bisecting his face.

 

“YOU!” Phasma growled, “The sea witch has you under her spell!”

 

Rearing up to full height using the stern’s ledge, Phasma towered over him gripping the harpoon firmly in hand.

 

Being pushed purely by instinct, Ben hauled himself up onto his knees and moved towards her. She looked up to him with wide eyes and her claws retracted. She let out a sharp, almost metallic, groan as her mouth snapped open and shut as she gasped.

 

Ben grabbed a handful of the netting and began to haul it back over the ledge of the boat. He forced the end of her tail over the side and heaved on the netting and dragged her closer to the edge.

 

A large wave rocked the boat, causing him to throw his arm over the ledge and hold on as best he could. Phasma toppled over and skidded across the boards towards the stern. When the waves levelled out, Ben continued to pull the netting to get her off the boat before Phasma could recover.

 

He tucked his arm under her neck and the other around her tail, and with a heave he moved her closer to the side of the boat. His chest was burning and it felt like no matter how much air he inhaled it was simply not enough. The cut on his face and shoulder throbbed with agonizing pain, but he was too far gone to notice it for very long.

 

He growled as he hoisted bulk of her tail over the ledge and into the water. His muscles ached and he was not quite sure where he was getting his strength when he felt like letting the pain overcome him and collapsing onto the deck.

 

Her skin looked a great deal more pale than he had ever seen it before as he held her torso against his chest. He tried to muster his remaining strength to get her back into the water. He managed to get onto one knee and used his leg to propel himself upward.

 

Glancing down, he saw her trying to reach out toward him with her hand, but it was caught in the netting. He watched as her lips moved, pressing together, as he hauled her over the side of the boat.

 

“B-“ her voice dissolved into a scrape of steel against stone, causing his ears to ring painfully and his heart to stop in his chest. The side of the boat tipped with her weight and he had to let her go.

 

His mouth tasted bitter as he watched her sink into the waves.

 

“You traitor!” Phasma shouted over gusting gusting wind and the increasingly choppy waters. “You would rather save a witch than protect your crew!”

 

Ben staggered to his feet, every part of his body burning with a deep set ache. Phasma charged at him with a swipe of the harpoon, and he only just barely dodged the attack, his muscles feeling heavy and lethargic.

 

Phasma attacked viciously again and Ben’s limbs began moving from sheer muscle memory from all of those years of training and practising, as his mind was slowly shutting down from the pain. He veered away from the heavy blow and haphazardly kicked Phasma in the abdomen causing his first lieutenant to reel backwards in pain.

 

He grabbed the harpoon, but Phasma tightened the grip, with gritted teeth, and tried tearing it away from him. Using the momentum to his advantage, Ben pushed the end of the harpoon sharply away from him and smacked it roughly against Phasma’s head.

 

Now temporarily distracted, Ben tore the harpoon from Phasma’s hands and without considering his actions he followed through with what his muscles guided him to do. He impaled Phasma through the chest and watched in horror as blood poured onto his hands.

 

What had he done?

 

Phasma croaked, mouth agape, trying to gasp for breath, before Ben watched the life slip from his first lieutenant’s widened eyes and muscles slacken.

 

He felt bile burn the back of his throat as the body fell to the boards. Inky darkness that had ebbed at the edges of his vision became more intense.

 

***

 

He did not remember tipping the bodies overboard the next time he woke up, as he surveyed the empty boat. Everything felt like a blur of action and numb of emotion. His mouth felt and tasted like cement and his wound was painfully scabbed.

 

However, the most pressing matter that plagued him was that he had not seen her since that day. He was not even sure how much time had gone by while he was blacked out. Something inside of him tells him that he should be grateful to have even woken up at all, but he cannot get past the crippling sensation of despair and loneliness that engulfed him.

 

He should not have continued to encourage her to come every night to visit him. He wished he felt some kind of immense regret for going against his crew mates to save her life, but he did not. He only felt guilt and heavy sadness of letting all of this transpire as a result of him and his actions.

 

His remorse extended far beyond that. He should not have sailed through that storm to catch the Resistance supply escort. He should not have left home without apologizing to his mother and bidding her a proper farewell.

 

He let his head rest against the ledge as he held the broken music box in his hands. It had gotten crushed during the incident. His heart ached at the thought of never hearing the melody again.

 

It should almost be midday, but the sky hung low with grey clouds, blocking out the sun. Thunder rumbled over the horizon, there had been a storm brewing in the distance for hours, but Ben could not find in himself to care. What was left to care for anyways?

 

He would give anything to see his mother again, to feel her gentle hands brush against his cheek, or hear her soft voice telling him stories like she used to when he was a child. But she was gone, years ago.

 

The waves rocking the boat got choppier as the storm moved closer. His chest felt hallow, like it was going to cave in any moment.

 

Suddenly, he heard the water ripple along the side of the boat and his heart shot into his throat. _It could not be her, could it?_

 

He gingerly propped himself onto his knees and peaked over the ledge and almost sobbed at the sight of her. He found it difficult to breath as she stared up at him with mournful eyes. He felt her gaze move across his face, as her eyes became watery and her bottom lip began to quiver.

 

Ben extended his hand to her, trying not to contort himself awkwardly to keep pressure off his wound. She took his hand and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles and his breath caught in his throat.

 

“I-I am so sorry,” his voice sounded rough and gravelly to his own ears.

 

She shook her head and pursed her lips, as the tears began to spill from her eyes. Ben brushed them away gently, knowing that she had not meant to hurt him. 

 

The back of his throat felt raw and burned as a heavy sensation of sadness washed over him, as he watched her cry.

 

“Please, don’t cry,” he whispered to her, his hand falling away as she reached up to take his face in her hands.

 

She ran her cold fingers over the scabbed wound and he hissed as the salt water stung his ruptured skin. She frowned, eyes still glassy, before her fingers settled over his jaw with her thumb skimming his cheeks. She closed her eyes, as he watched on curiously, trying to understand what she was doing.

 

Slowly his face began to heat up as her fingertips ignited with some sort of force. He could feel it humming just underneath his skin as slowly the sharp pain that radiated from his injury began ebbing away.Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as the tingling from her fingertips intensified. He took a deep breath as a wave of warmth washed over him, settling into his bones and chasing away any coldness that remained in his body.

 

He slowly felt the sensation recede and she removed her hands from his face, he already missed the sensation of her touch. She reopened her eyes and studied his face intensely before a minuscule grin tugged at her lips.

 

Ben reached up and very hesitantly skimmed his finger tips over the area the cut across his face used to be. Instead of brushing against a rough scab, he felt a smooth line going down his cheek. The implications of her actions immediately dawned on him.

 

She healed him.

 

Reaching up, she brushed away the hair that fell across his forehead, and he could not help but lean into her touch.

 

“My beautiful melody, my ray of hope,” he mumbled, the words slipping from his lips before he realized.

 

She blinked up at him, the glassy sheen returned to her eyes, as she pursed her lips into a shaky smile. She cupped his face again, running her thumb along his scar.

 

Biting her lip, in a moment of contemplation, her smile grew. She surged upwards and pressed a kiss on his lips.

 

He was surprised for a moment, before his eyes slid shut and he returned the kiss. He had dreamed of kissing her since the day she came up to the boat, drawn closer by the sound of his music box.

 

Her lips, while a little cold, ignited a fire in his chest. He wanted to pull her even closer, but the boat was in the way.

 

She slowly pulled away with a gentle grin on her face, as she slipped back towards the water.

 

His heart thundered in his chest, overcome with his feelings for her. “I love you,” the words that he kept buried deep inside came tumbling out like a flood.

 

Her eyes immediately widened and a brilliant smile appear across her face, as she glowed with the force of a thousand suns. He leaned down and settled his palm against her cheek, and she pressed a kiss on the inside of his wrist.

 

Ben reached down to kiss her and the music box clattered to the wooden boards. He watched the fear erupt onto her features as she immediately dived below the water.

 

“Wait!” He cried, “Come back!”

 

She stopped a few metres away, watching him from under the water. His blood felt hot with panic as he tried to show her that she is safe.

 

He let his hand slip under the water, hoping she trusted him enough to come back. After a long moment of deliberation, she finally resurfaced some distance away from the boat.

 

“There is no one, I am alone,” he called out to her, hoping his voice would carry over the increasingly rough waves.

 

Slowly, she swam back towards the boat. It hurt him to think that she did not trust her safety around the vessel anymore, but he could not blame her.

 

He picked up the broken music box and handed it to her for her to inspect. When she tried turning the handle, there was no music.

 

“It broke, it’s irreparable,” he muttered to her, “but I wish I could hear its tune one last time.” 

 

She contemplated the broken music box for a few seconds before her lips melted into a smile. She took his hand, squeezing it once, and nodded towards the water before diving under taking the music box with her.

 

Ben suddenly could not breath as if she had stolen the air from his lungs as she slipped away under the waves. His gut pushed him to follow her, knowing fully well that if he followed her there would be no way back to the life he had once known. And yet, something in him called out for her, and without another thought he climbed over the ledge and dove into the cold water.

 

It was after he let himself sink underneath surface when he heard the music box’s tune being sung. He glanced over at her, floating near by holding the little trinket in her hands, as she beautifully sang the melody. Her voice seemed to call to some part of his soul as he was drawn towards her.

 

Ben reached out for her and she took hold of his hand. He tugged her towards him, no longer feeling the coldness of the ocean’s depths. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pressed her as close to him as possible, using his other hand to brush her cheek.

 

Lightning flashed in the world above them, lighting up the smile on her face before she kissed him again. He suddenly felt as if his lungs filled with air and his chest clenched with the sheer happiness of finally being able to hold her in his arms.

 

He felt her smile into the kiss before she pulled away. She held his face in her hands and her eyes looked over every aspect of his countenance.

 

“Ben,” she finally spoke, her voice as melodious as he could have possibly imagined. Her eyes glinted in awe as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. She pressed her forehead against his and he smiled.

 

It felt almost as if the light from her soul enveloped them both, as something deep inside him recognized her kindred spirit.

 

“Rey,” he said, as the world around him seemed to become consumed by the darkness.

 

***  


End file.
